


Bridge

by serafina20



Series: Missing Pieces [1]
Category: Lost
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-30
Updated: 2011-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:59:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's like a piece to a puzzle I never knew I was missing. He just…fits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bridge

**Author's Note:**

> Season 1 fic written in 2004. AU

It wasn't the hardest decision I've ever made. In fact, considering what a bitch Shannon would have been had we decided any other way, it was probably one of the easiest. Stay or go. Stay on the beach, baking in the sun, hot, thirsty, and uncomfortable and losing hope with each passing day, or go into the jungle where there's water and shade and shelter and pretend...

I don't know what they're pretending. Maybe Jack honestly thinks that we can build our own society or something out here in the middle of nowhere. Maybe he honestly thinks we can be happy on this weird island that gives me the creeps and won't let me sleep.

This stupid island that makes me see everything I've trained myself to ignore.

Maybe he really does believe we can start a civilization, I don't know. Except I do. Because I see and I understand a whole hell of a lot more than anyone gives me credit for. Maybe if I were ruggedly handsome instead of... Sawyer calls me pretty, and he's not the first, and just as long has he stays away, he can call me anything he wants.

What was I saying?

Oh, right. Why people don't listen to me. Because of my looks. I just think that maybe if I weren't so damn pretty and I looked like Jack, people would take me seriously around here. They do back in the Real World. Back in the Real World, I run my own business and people look to me for decisions and orders and when we're in a crisis, I'm the go-to guy. Because I'm people smart and business smart and I know how to turn something sour into something good. I can make people happy by reading them, reading the situation and doing what needs to be done. I get things done.

In the Real World.

Here? Not so much. Because the rules are different and you need more than brains to lead. You need that *something* and I missed it in the first few minutes after the crash. Where I blanked on how to do a simple procedure I'd done dozens of times, Jack did it correctly and brought a woman back to life. While I ran around looking for pens, he brought everyone together and showed them that It's Okay, and The Leader is Here Now.

And that leader wasn't me.

Maybe I'm okay with it, I don't know. It's hard for me, you see. Because, even if I'm not a leader, and even if no one was ever going to follow a thin, pale, pretty-boy whose looks most emphatically do not scream "Survival of the Fittest," that doesn't mean I don't see more than they do.

It's like this. Jack is... special. Really special, leader special. And everyone looks at him like he's special. And I know I seem jealous and everything, but it has nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with the fact that even though Jack was born with Leader tattooed on his ass, he's got this huge blind spot.

People. His blind spot is people. He doesn't really see them, not as individuals. Not fully realized individuals at any rate. And, okay, I actually know that this is a flaw in a lot of leaders. They can see the big picture and know what needs to be done. They can appeal to the masses and use their charisma to sway them over and even relate beautifully with them one-on-one. But. He doesn't really see them and their needs and their flaws and insecurities.

Take Rose for example. Sitting out there all day on the beach, mourning for her husband. Not drinking, not eating, not moving, and Jack didn't even notice. And Claire. She went to him, her leader, in her time of need, seeking guidance and support and love, just like we all do, and what did he do? He just brushed her off.

I know because then she came to me. I don't know why, I guess I just happened to be there. And it's not that I give leadership advice like Jack, or give off some weird-yet-comforting spiritual thing like that dude Locke does, but I'm non-threatening and I think that draws people. So, Claire came to me and we talked about how to do it and how, yes, any information makes people seem more real, even if we can only read the dry facts from a passport and don't really care if they wore glasses or not. We cling to symbols and comfort and familiarity.

Jack... doesn't get that. Because if he did lower himself to all that--the pain and anguish and messiness that is being human--if he had come to the memorial service, he might have had to become one of Us.

He can't. He can't risk belonging with the group. He's the leader and there are too many people who need him to be... God-like.

Hence the Adam and Eve thing that I heard him toss around. I wasn't eavesdropping, but I hear things. Things like Kate telling him that she's not Eve, to which I wanted to say, "No duh," but it occurs to me that Jack might be playing this close to the vest. We need a leader and you never know when people are going get picky about sexuality.

And, yes, I do know. No, it's not something he's told me or anything I've seen. I don't know the guy other than the seven days since the crash. But, I know Jack better than anyone and I know what he is.

He is me.

Only, you know. Better. Or something. More of a leader and definitely more of the kind of person people will turn to in a life or death situation. I'm more of a leader when things aren't so grim and now...

I don't know what I am.

I keep getting off topic.

Everyone thinks Jack is a Hero-God, even those closest to him. Even the ones staying behind. Sayid, Kate, Sawyer... all of them. Worship him, just like everyone else. Only they're on the inner cabal because they've got that *thing* he has, only it's not quite the same.

Sayid is too intense. He repulses people just as strongly as he draws them to him. Not his fault and it's not even racism or whatever from the Americans among us. He's just too exotic and mysterious. He's someone you toy with, flirt with, and live in awe of because of his incredible power and confidence. But, when he tells you to do something, you hesitate because you need to know that, ultimately, the order or request came from Jack.

Kate is too sad. It's in her eyes. She doesn't want to lead, she's a follower. A top follower, an alpha follower, but a follower. She's the lieutenant, same as Sayid. The sheriff, the law. Jack's arm.

Sawyer is too sarcastic to lead and too strong to follow. And that about sums him up. And, he doesn't want to worship Jack, and he doesn't, exactly, but he still doesn't quite see the real Jack. Sawyer is content to have the Hero because it gives him someone to dump on without feeling guilty.

It'll be interesting, seeing how our camp works. With three demi-leaders and no one to unite them, I have a feeling things will get ugly fast. And I can't help. I might--*might*--have been able to help with Jack. There was a wavelength or something, a current. I understood him and could even anticipate what he was going to do (except when he had that weird mental break; that I didn't see coming).

But these three are enigmas. I don't quite get them. I can read them, and I know how the break will happen, but I can't stop it.

Sawyer will fuck up with Kate first. She won't say anything, but she'll get more and more tense until it explodes. And that'll bring Sayid into it, although he'll have problems with both Sawyer and Kate--Sawyer because he's an ass and Kate because they've got a huge amount of sexual tension going between them.

This is, of course, assuming that the island doesn't eat us all first. Yes, I know the odds are higher that the people living inside the jungle where the hell-beast or whatever is living (polar bears, what the fuck?), but this island doesn't have any rules. Not ones that I can figure out.

It talks to me, though. Weird whispers in my sleep, when it lets me sleep. Suggestions and currents and something that make me sulk around at night, watching. Observing.

"You coming to bed?" Shannon asks, standing. She brushes sand from her ass and looks at me annoyed. I don't know about what.

"Later."

"Whatever." She flounces off and now Sawyer is smirking at me.

I roll my eyes and stand up. Sawyer already floated the incest thing at me yesterday; I refused to rise for the bait. And ewe, disgusting, and I'm gay, so I don't know where he's getting that vibe. Shannon is my sister, my bane and my duty. Especially now, out here. I'm all she has.

And I love her. But not like that.

"Where you going, Captain America?" he asks as I walk past him.

"For a walk. Why?" I throw him a flirty smile and pray to whatever God chooses to hear my prayer. "Wanna come?"

Sawyer just snorts and turns back to the fire. I wonder what he sees in there. I wonder what demons the island is throwing at him.

I wonder if it talks to anyone else but me.

I walk. No dinosaurs, no polar bears, no bees, and no disturbances. It's just a nice walk in the Jungle of Doom towards Jack's new civilization.

I'm not really surprised to find Jack just a few miles off the beach. He's inland and up from the Beach Camp some ways. I know he was there earlier, watching us. I knew his worry about Kate and the rest of us--his charges--wouldn't let him stay away long.

"Hey," I say, approaching quietly.

He looks startled. "Um, hey. What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." I walk over and sit next to him on the boulder he's sitting on.

"You're looking in the wrong place. The caves are a lot further in and... not this far over. I'll show you how to get there, if you want."

I shake my head and refrain from reaching out to touch him. "I wasn't looking for the caves. I was looking for you. And I found you, so I'm not looking in the wrong place."

Jack looks uncomfortable, and I know in that moment that the island has at least talked to him in the past. I have a feeling, though, it mostly ignores him and sends anything meant for him to me. Or something.

Or, maybe I'm going crazy. I'm perfectly content with that idea since the island isn't real anyway. It's a place outside of time and thought, a dream of the real world.

I rub my eyes. "I think I'm tired," I tell him, and I don't know why. It just seems like the thing to say.

He smiles. "I don't think I've slept a full night since the crash. There are too many... things."

"Voices?"

"I keep hearing them. The screams. I passed out when we crashed, but I feel it."

"The island remembers," I tell him.

He raises an eyebrow. "You sound like Locke."

I don't ask what he means by that, but I make a mental note to talk with Locke as soon as possible.

"How are things on the beach?" Jack asks finally.

"Fine right now. Ask me again in two weeks."

"Two weeks?"

I nodded then add, "Maybe sooner. It'll depend on Sawyer and Shannon. They're unpredictable and might fuck things up a lot sooner." This time I do touch him. Lightly, on the temple and just above that cut on his face.

Jack swallows. "Will it be bad?"

I wonder why he trusts me, trusting that I know what I'm talking about. I certainly haven't done anything to warrant such trust; he's only known me screwing up royally. "I think that as long as our leader neither disappears completely nor interferes to much, it'll be manageable. I think that once they get it out of their heads that this has to be all or nothing," and I fix him with a look here, because why Jack thought that we all had to move and abandon Beach Camp is beyond me, "I think we'll get through it. We're just going through growing pains." Then, I shake my head, flatting my palm against his face. "Birthing pains."

He shudders and leans into my touch. "Birthing pains," he repeated. "How did I let this happen?"

"You're still learning. Next time, make it seem like it's their choice. And make them feel like it's not all or nothing."

"I can't do this."

"You have to. You're the leader."

"Want to trade?" he asks with a laugh.

I just kiss him then. He's still laughing, but not at me, and his arms fold around me. Hands clutch my shirt and pull it up. His hands are calloused and rough, warm on my back as he caresses me. His beard scratches my skin as he kisses me. His mouth is wet and hot and he's...

Happy. Not amused, not cracking, but happy as he kisses me and clutches the nape of my neck.

"Pretty boy," he whispers against my skin. We fall off the bolder and it's soft on the ground as he rolls onto me.

"What?" I nuzzle his neck, teeth lightly nipping at him.

He arches his back, hips pressing into mine. "Pretty boy. That's what I thought, the first moment I could breathe again. When you brought me all those pens, I almost kissed you."

My cheeks heat. "Don't remind me, please."

"Pretty, sweet, earnest kid who reacted the way I wanted to." He kisses my forehead, then my lips. "You did what you needed to do."

I look up into his eyes, feeling so small next to him. "You did what was needed."

He kisses me again, framing my face with his hands. "So did you."

"I keep failing," I insist, not wanting to make him comfort me, but needing to hear it anyway. I had to know if he cared of if I was just convenient. Even if I already knew. "I fucked up on Rose, I let that woman drown, I accidentally stole the water. I don't mean to screw up so much, but I ..."

"You're human. And you try so hard." He kissed my cheek. "And, God, you're so pretty." Gently, he kissed my upper lip and then bit the lower. "You're not just here because you want to bag the leader, right? I mean..."

I shut him up with a kiss. Because it's not because he's the leader, it's not just because he's hot. It's because he fits and I know what he thinks before he does and I know what he does and how he'll react.

He's like a piece to a puzzle I never knew I was missing. He just...fits.

"No," I whisper. I stroke the back of his head and look up into his eyes. "It's because you're you."

Jack sighs and rests his forehead against mine. "Come back with me. To the caves, I mean. We have water and we're building shelters. We can use you." He kisses me. "I want you there."

"You barely know me."

"You barely know me. And I know you know me better than anyone. Ever." His fists clutch my shoulders. "Why?"

"It's the island," I tell him. "It tells me things. Somehow. I feel it. I feel you most of all." I kiss him again, then make him get off me. "I can't go. We can't both be in one place while the group is split. Not now; it's too soon." Brushing dirt off my clothing, I rise. "But I'll, uh, drop by. We'll talk."

Jack is on his knees, and he grabs my hand. His thumb caresses the inside of my wrist.  
"Not just talk." His smile is a promise.

I didn't kiss him because I knew if I did, we'd stay together all night. And I couldn't do that, because Shannon was going to have a nightmare and if she did without me there, things would be bad. And the island was telling me to go.

"Tomorrow," I say, and I pull away.

"And tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow," he adds, a goofy smile on his face.

I return the smile and then disappear into the shadows.

We've split up. Not him and me, obviously, because we've just begun. I mean the survivors. The camp. We've split by fear and confusion and too many people who want to be leaders all the while following someone else. Two camps, one purpose: survive.

And it's up to Jack and me to build a bridge.

Fin


End file.
